


Voodoo

by gacrux



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Gen, With a capital A, i'm trying to learn how to write from gamzee's perspective, it's quite the process
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gacrux/pseuds/gacrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't remember what it's like to think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voodoo

Gamzee doesn't know who he is.

 

That's all he knows, most of the time. There's a void in his mind, a blackness as deep and dark as the horrorterrors. Gamzee listened in on a conversation once between Dave and Karkat. They were talking about scary things, things they feared. Gamzee hadn't so much as blinked, but somewhere deep down he'd felt like laughing. Scary things. _Scary things._ What did they know about being scared? What did they know about fear? 

 

But Gamzee doesn't know who he is, and all he did was listen.

 

He can't really remember that conversation now, but he remembers Karkat's almost inaudible whisper of 'death' like he'd said the the mirthful messiahs themselves were his greatest fear. He's not sure why he took that answer and kept it so close to his heart. He's not sure what he thinks about Karkat anymore, but he's – not sure who he is, either. Nothing makes sense. He sees death in his day dreams, has nightmares about life on Alternia, and the sweetest visions of being picked apart layer by layer by his own moirail.

 

He doesn't think about it much, when he can. It's a waste of thinking time. A waste of his often brief lucidity.

 

Gamzee doesn't want to think. They best way to avoid thinking, he has found, is to wander the dream bubbles. And he's stumbled across a few interesting things there, the kind of thing he can use to take his mind off of Karkat and (Terezi? Why her?  _Why her)_ things. 

 

_Gamzee. Hello._

 

Kurloz says. Doesn't say. His chucklevoodoos aren't as strong as Gamzee's (nothing is as strong as Gamzee, he's heard from-) but with them he can communicate with Gamzee like he didn't cut out his tongue and sew his mouth shut. The motherfucking  _idiot,_ Gamzee thinks, all the time. All the same. Fuck pity. Fuck that piteous  _feeling_ Kurloz feels for Mituna, for Meulin. 

 

Not the trolls themselves, of course. Gamzee loves Meulin because when he's done visiting Kurloz she rolls her claws against the side of his temples and makes him sigh. He hasn't seen much of Mituna (because he's always with Latula, Kurloz often mentions) but what he's seen reminds him of some friends. Dead friends. Friends whose heads he-

 

He needs to be near someone who's like him.

 

Kurloz is – almost  _too_ like him, and yet not at all. 

 

_Gamzee._

 

It's like, a whisper. A caress of the mind, from one infrangible troll to another. It's not nice. It's actually pretty horrible. It would break a lesser being; shatter their mind, erode their personality. Gamzee sees fractals of someone else in Meulin sometimes and he wonders... he wonders.

 

_Gamzee._

 

Sharper this time. Kurloz doesn't like when he thinks about things like that – things that don't pertain to him. To them. To these few moments of quiet that Gamzee hates so virulently he comes to his shitty motherfucking ancestor to fill up his head with white noise. It works because despite his lesser power, Kurloz has much more precise control. He can form words, pictures, _thoughts_ and put them in Gamzee's head however he pleases. Gamzee can only destroy and erase and lose his mind when he uses his chucklevoodoos, because in numerous ways they're still too strong for him. It's all too... strong. And he's weak. Mentally. Physically he's done some pretty motherfucking gruesome-

 

_Gamzee._

 

Again. He could do anything to Gamzee and all he says is his name. Over and over. Not all the time, but a lot. Like it's some kind of fucking novelty. It's been a long damn time (how long? How-) and the shine of it hasn't worn off, apparently. Maybe Kurloz just likes annoying him. It's infuriating. Gamzee could kill him. Would kill him. But he likes not being alone because ever since he went and fucked off that meteor – and how did he do that again – he's been so. Motherfucking. Lonely.

 

_Sh._

 

That noise. It's like. He can't describe it. It kind of feels like he's papping himself. Which is fucking weird to think about, but then Kurloz has his hands on his face and he's not alone anymore. Again. Nothing makes sense and it's horrible.

 

He plucks out the stitching that curls his dancestor's lips together and dives into someone, something, else. Anything is better than himself.


End file.
